


Cruel Summer, Fateful Fall

by Sam_Haine



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Anger, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Flirting, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bottom Steve Harrington, California, Crying, Day At The Beach, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Hawkins (Stranger Things), Hawkins National Laboratory, Heavy Angst, Hurt Billy Hargrove, Hurt Steve Harrington, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pretty Steve Harrington, Protective Billy Hargrove, Rough Sex, Smoking, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Stranger Things 3, Surfing, Top Billy Hargrove
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine
Summary: Steve's Dad takes the family to California for a business deal. There, Steve runs into Billy Hargrove and the two strike up an unexpected friendship that turns into something more.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 19
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the summer of love they were deprived of in Season 3 because of the Mind Flayer. Hope you guys enjoy. I'll be adding some more chapters to this because it takes place over one week... I'll keep you posted!

Cruel Summer, Fateful Fall

The sun shone down on that popular boardwalk, brilliant and golden like liquid daylight. The wind blew through dark chocolate strands, the smell of sea salt in the air. There were white birds gliding gracefully over the blue waters of Venice beach. Massive palm trees swayed lazily in the sea breeze, casting thin, spider-like shadows on the ground. There were people everywhere; walking in groups, skate-boarding by themselves or roller-skating in pairs. Flamboyant shops line the walk with their bright colours, packed to their capacities with half-naked bodies in search of either food or little frivolous souvenirs to take back home with them when they left this paradise. 

And compared to Hawkins, Indiana, this place was the perfect example of paradise. 

However, Mr Harrington hadn't brought his wife and his son out here for vacation. No, he was close to finalizing a business deal with a self-proclaimed millionaire. And the man had invited John to bring his family to California for an entire week. So, that was the only reason Steve and his mother were there in the first place. Of course, she'd abandoned him to go frolicking with her husband and his work partners. And he'd been left alone to his own devices with a slap on the back and a thick wad of cash to blow. 

Now here he was, in roller skates zooming gracefully past groups of locals and tourists, the beach wind in his hair and an easy smile on his lips. Whether he liked being totally ignored by his parents or not, it certainly was a relief to be out of Hawkins for a while. All the jazz he'd been forced to deal with in the last year had been terrifying and he'd needed a break. He's pretty sure everyone back home needed a break after the Russian Invasion and the Mind Flayer had totally ruined their summer. 

He grinned giddily at all the people around him, even the ones who were skating and holding hand together. They all looked so happy and content that it almost didn't seem real. Then the smell of cotton candy and kettle corn fills the air around him, making his stomach grumble. He drifts away from the crowds and over to one of the little side shops. He pays for his cotton candy, thanking the vendor with a smile before leaving. The car park next to the shop isn't quite as crowded as the boardwalk so he goes there to have his cotton candy in peace. 

_That's when he sees it._

The blue paint was a dead-ringer if the build of the car wasn't at first. It sported several dents and scrapes on the side, as if it had been run into by another car. Steve could feel his body shudder at the memory of driving Todd's car into Billy's Camaro. It had injured Billy badly, but Steve didn't know what else to do, sitting behind the wheel watching as Nancy just stood there, waiting for her inevitable death. He blinks a couple times, frowning hard at the car as if it were some kind of illusion. 

_Was Billy here? What were the odds that he'd run into him out here in Venice?_ All he knew was that Billy was taking some time off in Santa Monica. That's what Max had told him anyway. He skates over to the back of the car, taking a deep breath of surprise when he sees the _PCE 235 California_ plate. 

_"Hey,"_ a voice suddenly interrupts, startling the brunette and causing him to spin around so fast that he falls on his ass, cotton candy gone flying somewhere behind him. 

"Woah, easy there dude. Why're you snoopin'?" 

He blinks up at three hilariously stereotypical Californian beach blondes, with chiseled and tanned abs and shades over their eyes. They're holding surfing boards, and they've got on board shorts and flip flops. Steve winces as small sharp pebbles and stone digs into his butt, trying his best to get to his feet and hide his blush of embarrassment. 

"Who are you?" One of the blonde asks, while the other one smirks at him. 

"He's kinda cute, isn't he?" 

Steve blushes even harder as he finally makes it to his feet, skates suddenly weighing him down. 

"I'm-"

_"Harrington?"_

He freezes mid-sentence, head snapping to the side to see where that familiar voice came from. And sure enough, he saw Billy coming up to them, brushing past a group of girls with a beer in hand and his surf board tucked under his arm. He looked good, Steve realizes, having been at least three months removed from the tragedy he'd been through. His hair was loose, golden curls hanging in soft, easy tendrils about his head. His skin practically glowed under the Californian sun, gleaming in a way it never did back in Hawkins. Here, he could tell Billy was in his element. He didn't look tense and annoyed and his shoulders weren't so hunched and aggressive. 

"Billy?" 

The blonde boy grinned at him, beach blue eyes looking him up and down. He took in the brunette's limber body, from his brand new skates and his tube socks, all the way to his tiny green shorts and his white crop top. His legs looked even longer than they already were. He looked pale and delicate compared to all the tanned, muscular bodies all around him. Stuck out like a sore thumb in Venice beach and still, in the way only Steve Harrington could, looked so damn ethereal at the same time. His hair had gotten longer, thick brunette locks plastering the nape of his neck, falling into those pretty brown doe eyes. 

"You know him?" One of the guys asks Billy incredulously. 

Billy snorts and nods in Steve's direction. "Hawkins." 

"Oh." 

"You didn't tell us they make em like _this_ in ol' Indiana, Hargrove. I might consider moving there next spring." 

Billy rolls his eyes, placing his beer on the hood of his car and his board on the side. 

"Shut up Cliff." Then he turns to Steve and smirks. "What're you doin' here pretty boy? Vacation?" 

Steve scratches the back of his head, trying his best to hide his blush even as Billy openly gazes at his exposed tummy. "Um, no actually. Business trip with my parents." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah, we're staying at the Marina Del Rey hotel. I'll just be here for the week." 

Billy's other blonde friend snorts at him, looking impressed. "Damn, the Marina? Gotta get me some rich, pretty-boy friends too Hargrove. You willin' to share this one? I'm Danny by the way." 

Steve takes the offered hand and smiles uneasily, "Steve Harrington." 

"Cute," Cliff smirks, pointing at the other guy. "This is Kevin and I'm Cliff." 

Billy cracks open his can of beer, drinking and silently observing his friends pester the brunette. 

"Hey we're going surfing, you wanna come with?" Cliff shoots, wiggling his thick brows. 

Steve shrugs with an uneasy smile, glancing at Billy. When the boy doesn't say anything he shakes his head. "I don't think I..." 

"Oh come on! You ever been to the beach before? You're pretty pale so I'm guessing not. It'll be fun." Danny insists, already following Kevin and Cliff down the sandy incline that led to the crowded shore. 

Finally Billy speaks, "You guys go ahead, we'll meet you there." 

"Sweet." 

When they're gone, Billy walks around to the driver's side and opens his door. He digs around for the while, leaving Steve in suspense. The brunette swipes his fingers through his bangs, brushing them out of his eyes. 

"I can go, Billy. I don't want to impose. Really, I didn't know I'd run into you here." He reassures the blonde, quick to realize when he's not wanted around. But then Billy peeks up at him from across the roof of the car and raises an unimpressed brow. 

"Shut up Harrington. You're not imposing and besides, it's gonna be hilarious watching you try to catch a wave." 

Steve smiles despite the frown threatening at his brows. "Yeah, uh no. I'm not gonna be in the water any time soon. I can swim in pools, not the beach." 

Billy looks disgusted by that revelation but shrugs nonchalantly, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He locks his car and picks up his board. 

"C'mon pretty boy, let's go ride some waves." 

........................

Sticking to his guns, Steve had remained on the shores, sitting pretty in the sand on Billy's t-shirt, because he didn't want to get dirty. _Call him a priss,_ but he preferred to feel grainy sand in between his toes, not his ass. 

Billy and his friends ran into the open water, mounting their boards and challenging every barrel wave that accosted them. It was both exciting and scary to witness, the exhilarating scene of mere humans standing up to massive blue waves of water. His heart slides up into his throat when he sees Billy disappear into a blue tunnel, failing to come out surfing the other end. And for a second, his mind runs on Barb, screaming for her life in his pool as the demogorgon ripped her from their world. He feels sick. 

He rushes to his feet, forgetting his pair of skates on the sand as he approaches the shoreline. Wide, terrified eyes scan the choppy waters, sharp breaths wheezing from his throat. He sees Kevin and Danny riding smaller waves, clueless about where Billy's disappeared to. Cliff is on the far left, paddling on his stomach on his board next to a dark-haired surfer girl. His fists are cold and sweaty now, heart hammering in his chest. 

_Where the hell is he?_

Suddenly, as if in response, Billy's stupid head breaks the surface and he's grinning like a maniac, climbing onto his board and paddling towards the shore. He hops off when he's in shallow waters, securing his board under his arm as he trudges up to Steve in nothing but soaked blue board shorts. Steve sighs heavily, rolling his eyes at Billy's stupid smirk. 

_What the hell?_

"You look paler than usual." 

He scoffs and goes back to his skates, sitting down on Billy's t-shirt. Billy plops down beside him, setting his board down beside him with a tired but satisfied exhale. 

"You disappeared for a second. That shit's scary okay?" Steve grumbles, eyes gazing at the unusual sight before him. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to seeing so much water and waves, and people in the waves. Back in Hawkins, all they had was the quarry and he didn't even go there often. 

"Chill out Harrington." Billy chuckles, slipping on aviators and lying back on the sand, hands crossed behind his head. Steve glares at him but then shakes his head. 

"Max had told me that you were coming to California for the fall. That you needed a break after- ...after everything that happened." 

Billy snorts, grabbing his pack of Marlboro reds. "Yeah, and?" 

Steve bites his lip. "I dunno. Never thought I'd run into you _here."_

Billy frowns, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. "Where the hell'd you think California was?" 

Steve smirks. "I meant here in Venice you dick. Thought you guys lived in Santa Monica." 

Billy rolls his eyes. "Wow, no wonder Robin calls you dingus. Santa Monica's like twenty minutes from here, pretty boy." 

Steve frowns, pure confusion written all over his face. "Then how come you're here?" 

Billy sighs. "Cos this is place has the best waves. Maybe not today, because all we caught were ankle-busters. But Venice is where it's at." 

"Oh," Steve hums, nodding slowly to himself. 

A comfortable silence fills the space between them, dissipating some of the earlier awkwardness that had filtered through their interaction. Steve tries his best to not stare at Billy, still amazed at how much better California looked on him. Last time he'd seen him, his was bleeding and broken and in the slimy claws of the Mind Flayer. The fact that he was still breathing after that, was a miracle which kind of made this current experience surreal. Billy was an almost-dead-man. 

"How's it back in Hawkins?" Billy finally asks, a quiet hesitance in his voice as if he didn't really want to know. 

Steve shrugs. "Hawkins is... _Hawkins,_ y'know. A lot of people are still suspicious but Dr Owens is handling everything. Hopper too. They tore the mall down, to build a new one." 

Billy scoffs. "Gas leak again?" 

Steve shakes his head. "A gang and wild animals." 

Billy nearly chokes on his laughter. "A gang? Seriously? That's how they explained away the Russians?" 

Steve snickers. "Well, it would be weird to bring the mafia into this, I'll admit. The hospital had to be cleared away by Owens' people before the local PD decided to stick their noses in it. They left enough to make it look like an animal attack. And Nancy used the rats as a sort of band-aid over the whole thing. Now everyone's scared of a second-coming of the plague." 

"Jesus fucking Christ, that town is a mess." 

Steve nods, honey-brown eyes gazing out at Billy's friends still in the water. 

"Your friends seem nice." 

Billy snorts, breathing out smoke through his nostrils. "They're idiots, but yeah, I guess they're cool." 

"Cliff said I was cute." He replies, matter-of-factly. 

Billy huffs, mildly amused. "Cliff's an asshole. He'd tap anything that moves." 

Steve turns away to hide his blush. "Are most of the guys like that here?" 

Billy narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. "Why d'you care?" 

"I wasn't trying to be rude. It's just that, Robin told me a few things before I left. It's a pretty liberal atmosphere here right?" 

"Maybe, yeah I don't know... there's a lot of hippies." Billy answers, noncommittal. 

Steve shrugs. "I like it. Way better than stuffy, old Hawkins." 

Billy smirks. "You interested in Cliff then?" 

Steve's eyes widen as he gapes at Billy, a rosy blush on his cheeks. "No!" 

"Hey, I was just askin'." 

Steve scoffs. "Besides, even if I were to be interested in a guy here, they'd all look like you." He bites his tongue on that one and righteously ignores Billy raised brow. 

"I meant tanned and muscular with blonde hair, Hargrove." 

The blonde snorts, deeply amused. "You really have been hanging out with Buckley too much." 

Steve grins despite himself, thinking of his best friend. "That's a plus, Robin's awesome." 

Billy shrugs. "How's she been doing after, y'know, coming out?" 

"She's been great. Her parents were angry at first but then they came around. I think they still believe she's going through a phase though. It's hilarious." 

Billy chuckles beside him, putting out his cigarette in the sand. He retrieves the filter and crushes it in between his fingers, letting the dust fall away in the wind. 

"And you? Is this a phase or are you serious about Cliff?" 

Steve blushes again but shakes his head. "I don't know what I am. But I'm not interested in Cliff." 

"But he called you cute." Billy mocks lightly.

"And you called me pretty boy." Steve shoots back dryly, grinning at the annoyed face Billy pulls at him. 

"I was just tryna get a rise outta you." 

Steve clicks his tongue. "I could tell." 

"Christ the waves are shit today!" Kevin yells, trudging up to them with his board in hand. Cliff and Danny follow, with the dark-haired girl in tow. 

"I'm surprised you didn't give up earlier." Billy replies, standing as they approach. Steve does the same, picking up Billy's t-shirt and handing it over. 

"Was hoping it would get better." Danny sighs, blonde hair matted to his head. 

"The water was still decent though. You should've joined us, Bill." The girl adds, smiling at him. Billy shakes his head with a smile of his own. 

"Nah, I was happily wiped out. Besides, I had to keep this one company. Mickey, this is Steve, Steve, Mickey." 

"Hi," Steve greets with a tiny, awkward wave of his hand. Mickey stares at him with cool green eyes, a sweet grin on her lips. 

"Well hi there. He's pretty." She says, wiggling her perfectly shaped brows at Billy. 

"Yeah and he's rich," Billy responds unhelpfully, "Uses people's t-shirts as carpets because the sand's for peasants." 

Steve blushes, heavily aware of eveyone's eyes on him. "That's not-" 

"Well if that's not princess-behaviour, then I don't know what is." Cliff grins at him, tongue licking his lips flirtatiously. Steve bites his lip to hold in his smile and it just makes him look even more adorable. Billy is absolutely enjoying the torture and he wants to smack him upside the head for it. 

"He _does_ live in a castle back home." 

"Billy-" Steve groans, shaking his head. He offers them a tired smile and picks up his skates. "Hey, it's been nice meeting you all, but I'd better get going." 

"So soon? We were just gonna hit the bars." Cliff chimes in. 

But Steve shakes his head. "Another time maybe. My parents are probably back by now." 

He doesn't mention the fact that his parents could care less about whether he was back or not, but who cares? He just needs to be alone with his thoughts right now. 

Billy taps him on the shoulder, "I'll give you a ride to the Marina. Guys, I'll meet you at Josie's?" 

"Yeah sure." 

***

Steve follows Billy to his car, a little ruffled and confused. 

"You sure about this?" He asks quietly when they get in the car, fixing his seatbelt on even though Billy refuses to put on his. 

"It's just a ride Harrington." Billy snorts, reversing out of the parking lot. 

"Yeah but..." 

"But?" 

Steve shakes his head. "Nothing. It's just so weird talking to you like this..." 

Billy gives him some serious side-eyes so he quickly rambles out an explanation. 

"It's a good weird, not a bad one. I promise. I just... I dunno, it's surreal, y'know? Talking to you like this after everything that's happened?" 

Billy sighs heavily. "I was a dick Harrington, I get it. And if I've never apologized for smashing a dinner plate over your head then-" 

"No, that's not it." Steve interrupts, looking down at his lap where his hands are wrung tightly together, nervous. 

"Then what is it?" 

"I mean it's surreal talking to you after you almost got offed by the Mind Flayer." He blurts. "That thing almost killed us all, sure but it fucking skewered you and took over the whole town. Not to mention Hopper almost dying down in that basement. And the Russian doctor almost killing Robin and me..." 

Billy frowns. "Wait the Russian what now?" 

"Russian doctor. They were in the sub-level of the mall, opening the gate to the Upside Down again." 

"Oh, yeah... Max was telling me something about that. They really drug you?" 

Steve snorts then says quietly, "Yeah, they said it would make us talk. Look, I'm just glad we all made it out of all that... alive. It's just weird seeing everyone act so normal though." 

Billy doesn't say anything for the longest while, letting Steve stew in his thoughts. It's only because he's lost in his own head and in his memories of those harrowing moments back in Hawkins. Sometimes he still feels a dark presence in the back of his mind but he tries to ignore it. Usually it tingles the hairs on the back of his neck like it did to Will, but nothing supernatural ever happens. He comes out of his head as he notices the imposing presence of the Marina hotel. He stops the car and cuts off the engine. 

"You haven't gotten over last summer, have you?" 

And then Steve turns to look at him with those big, dark eyes, lower lip trembling in surprise. 

"And you _have_?" 

Billy shakes his head. "Of course not, but I can't wallow in it. I mean, if I did then I'd never be sane again. Why d'you think I came out here?" 

Steve looks away from him, eyes glassy. "Yeah you're right. Can't wallow in it." He mutters softly, his voice breaking from the emotion. But then he plasters on a killer smile and opens the door. 

"Hey, thanks for today. Your friends are cool and Venice is nice I guess."

Billy notices the sudden change in mood but doesn't mention it. 

" _Nice_? Damnit Harrington, it's better than nice. Am I gonna have to show you around the best spots like a tourist now?" 

Steve grins at him, shutting the door. "Maybe? I don't know anyone else here. You willing to be my personal Venice Beach ambassador?" 

Billy doesn't know why his stomach spasms at the thought but he goes with it anyway, returning Steve's grin. 

"Fine rich-kid, what time do I grace you with my presence?" He drawls, starting the car up again. 

Steve purses his lips, eyes bright again. "You're required to be here no later than the time it takes you to get over the hangover you're probably about to get from tonight." 

Billy snorts and flips him off. "Alright. 'Night princess." 

Steve rolls his eyes and watches him drive off into the distance, butterflies in his stomach for some goddamn reason.


	2. Sultry Santa Monica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of Steve's visit to Cali. He's invited to hang out with Billy and his friends. What's a pretty boy gonna do but accept the offer? Billy uncovers some deep-seeded feelings he wasn't even aware he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the response to this story and I really appreciate it because it came from a place of passion. Thank you all so much! More to come.

Sultry Santa Monica 

Billy had called the hotel room, telling Steve that he'd pick him up around three in the afternoon. 

And since that call, Steve had been feverishly looking for clothes to wear. All of his stuff was fucking preppy and dull, closet filled with pale pastels and varying shades of grey, green and blue sweaters. He'd packed jeans and a stupid leather jacket that was completely useless in sultry California. He sighs, brain having a complete meltdown as the hours ticked by. _God_ , Billy was going to be here in about fourty-five minutes and he was still standing in his room in his underwear with his hair uncombed and unstyled! 

"Stevie, we're gonna head out okay?" His mother calls from the hallway. 

"Okay mom! Have fun." He yells, wrapping a towel around his waist. 

"Sweetheart, why aren't you ready yet? Isn't your friend going to be here soon?" Judy Harrington questions, striding into the room in a flowing white dress. She looks regal and elegant with her flowing chestnut hair and strings of pearls around her neck. He's been told that he got his good looks from her- though he just wished he had her attention. But, who was he to demand that from her or his father? They were working people with a company to run. 

"He'll be here in thirty minutes mom. I've got time." 

Judy shoots him a look as if to say, 'really?' "Oh for goodness sake Steven, your hair alone takes thirty minutes!" 

Steve screws up his nose at that. "I do not." 

"Where are your clothes?"

"I don't have any!"

"Nonsense, you have a lot of clothes Steven."

"My usual isn't gonna work here mom." 

Judy ignores him and shuffles through his clothes. She pulls out a nice, new pair of denim shorts and a white, long-sleeved shirt. She stuffs the items into his hands and struts out the room the same majestic way she came in. 

"You're welcome honey." 

Steve frowns down at the clothes, pouting as he realized that his mom had just helped him pick out an outfit. He groans internally and shakes his head, trying his best not to think about it. 

He slips the shorts on, eyebrows raising at how short they were. They were cut off somewhere mid-thigh, cupping his butt firmly making his ass look plump and round. He grimaces at his reflection in the mirror thinking about all the unwanted attraction he'd earn tonight. He sighs, buttoning up the white shirt and tucking the hem haphazardly into the waistband of his shorts. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the collar opened up just enough so that his clavicle is exposed. He steps into a new pair of Ralph Lauren Polo Tennis shoes, feeling some pride in them. They were his favorite pair of shoes besides the Nikes he usually wore. 

_This is how they dressed in sunny California, right?_

After fixing his damp hair with his trusted Farah Fawcett spray and spritzing himself in Calvin Klein's _Obsession'_ , he grabs his keys and the stack of cash on his bed and books it. He didn't want to be late and upset the evening or whatever. Billy would probably be pissed if he did that shit. He notices a few interested looks from several men in suits waiting about the hotel lobby and it makes him severely conscious. 

_Were they looking at him because he was dressed like a degenerate? Or were some of those looks actually the lustful leering of men too set in their ways to admit that they found a nineteen year old boy in tight shorts and a sheer white shirt appetizing to look at?_ One man in a particularly regal-looking Armani suit rakes his eyes up and down Steve's lithe little body, settling on his chest. Steve can feel the hair on his nape raise uncomfortably so he quickly fixes his shirt to conceal his exposed collar. He keeps his smile polite as he passes the man at the door, ignoring the way he inhales Steve's sweet scent on the way out. 

_Thankfully_ Billy's car is out there in the pick-up zone, waiting to take him to paradise. He quickly steps in, giving Billy a grateful smile. The blonde is dressed in a pair of ripped blue jeans and a black shirt that's opened all the way down to reveal his impressive abs. Typical Billy fashion that he just pulls off with casual ease. Steve feels stupid in his shorts now. 

"Well _damn,_ Harrington. The hell's that hot little number about?" Billy grins, tongue swiping across his lips indulgently. Steve blushes furiously, rolling his eyes and glaring out the window. 

"I thought this was how you beach hippies dressed." He grumbles, slipping on his Wayfarer Ray Bans. He can feel Billy's eyes on him and it makes his stomach tie itself in knots. The gaze didn't feel leery or pervy like the way those older men had ogled him. No. Instead, it seemed almost appreciative. And he wasn't quite sure what to do with that finding. 

"Us beach hippies don't flaunt capitalism _Mr Ralph Lauren and Klein_." Billy snorts, glancing casually at his side mirror. "And put on your seatbelt." 

Steve turns up his nose haughtily. "You're not wearing yours, why should I?" 

"Because it's my damn car and I said so, pretty boy." Billy mutters, stopping at a red light. He fills the time by purposely ignoring Steve's pale thigh that's inches away from his hand in favour of taking out a cigarette and lighting it. The brunette rolls his eyes but obeys anyway, grudgingly securing the belt. 

"Where are we going?" Steve pipes up again, eyes drawn to the prominent veins in Billy's forearm and wrist. It's weakening, those veins, so he quickly looks away. 

"Little place called Santa Monica Lounge. It's a hoot." Billy answers, cigarette hanging from his lips. 

Steve chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Is it a bar? Is the food there any good? And do they have games?"

Billy screws up his face in annoyance as if it were Max annoying him in the front seat. "Jesus Christ Harrington, what's with all the questions? It's gonna be fine." 

"Well what am I gonna do there when you go off with your friends?" Steve counters dumbly, earning an incredulous look from Billy. 

"I'm not gonna ditch you Harrington, geez. And to answer your pesky questions, _yes_ the food is good, _yes_ they've got a pool table and _yes_ , it's got a bar. We're gonna get shit-faced tonight." 

Steve tilts his head approvingly at that, some heaviness inside him immediately lightening up as the Californian breeze billows through his hair. He could use a bit of mindless fun right now after weeks of being in isolation with his morbid thoughts for company. Who would've thought that Billy Hargrove would be the one to save him from his self-imposed suffering and misery? 

_Definitely not him._

The sunset is all around them as it nears dusk. The gradient of the sky moves from burning orange, to a bright crimson then tapers off into a pinkish-peach, vibrant purple and then velvet indigo. Billy slips on his shades as the sunset begins to dazzle his eyes, fist gripping the gear shift tightly, hyper-aware of Steve's bare thigh _right there._ It made him feel like a perv but so what? Sue him for wanting to touch and caress that supple skin, to feel it against his mouth... _to feel those thighs against his sideburns._

Who the fuck was Steve Harrington to come up in his car, looking like _that_ and act all sweet and innocent about it? _God, and when the fuck did he start having the hots for fucking Harrington?_ They'd never really been around each other ever since their fight at the Byers house. In fact, Steve had spent the rest of school religiously avoiding him at gym, in class, in the school hallways, you name it. And suddenly, now they were like best of friends, chilling in Cali- Billy's home paradise- and hanging with his childhood friends. 

_What the fuck was wrong with this world?_

He huffs to himself, pulling into the roadside near a crowded building labelled, "Santa Monica Lounge." Steve can hear and feel the pulsing beat of the music from inside. He takes off his shades, swallowing nervously at all the people clustered outside the lounge. Some already had beer cups in their hands while others smoked joints. The girls were dressed in short, tasteful dresses, skirts and shorts and the men were either in biker denim and muscle tees or shorts and crop tops. It's like a costume party without actual costumes, Steve thinks climbing out of the car.

 _Cali's different Steve, it's free._ He mulls over Robin's words in his head as Billy leads him through the dancing bodies at the entrance. He receives some well-earned attention thanks to his provocative outfit, and gasps when a random hand grabs at his ass. Billy pauses at his yelp and rounds on the grabber only to realize that it's Mickey. 

"Hey guys!" She greets cheerfully, a half-drunk cup of beer in hand. Her dark hair falls in soft, wavy tendrils around her face and her eyes are shrouded by skillfully smoked eyeshadows. She gives both him and Billy kisses on the cheek, leading them over to the others. Steve looks back at Billy for some kind of reassurance, inhaling deeply when Billy shoots him a certain nod. He follows Mickey, not sure how to feel about Billy's warm presence directly behind him. 

"Hey, look who showed up!" Cliff howls into the air like a wolf or something. They're all sitting around near a pool table, Kevin and Danny already in round three of their game. Steve waves at them awkwardly, taking a seat nearest to him. Billy grins and fist bumps Cliff. 

"What am I in for?" He rumbles in that deep voice of his. 

Cliff rolls his eyes, taking a blunt from Mickey. "They're gonna finish in a minute. Danny's already lost twice." 

Billy snorts, turning to Steve and tapping him lightly on the knee. "Beer?" 

Steve nods, "Thanks." 

When Billy leaves, Cliff slides into the seat next to him, offering him the blunt. 

"Know what this is princess?" 

Steve fails to hold down the grin from splitting his face. "I'm not that stupid." 

"Oh yeah?" Cliff chuckles, mouth wide open in an excited laugh. "Well then, go for it." 

Steve takes the blunt, grateful the flashing lights in the dark lounge are concealing his nervous blush. He can feel Cliff's eyes on his lips, watching his mouth close around the joint. He glances up at the wrong time and locks eyes with the blonde who licks his lips either purposely or unintentionally. Something like a drunken wave of confidence flickers throughout his body and he makes a show of pulling in the bitter smoke into his lungs. Cliff looks dazed by it all, grin widening as Steve slowly breathes the smoke out. He offers the blunt back to Cliff with a smile but the blonde holds up his hands. 

"Nah, I wanna see you smoke the rest of that, because _that_ was fucking sexy." 

Steve blushes and straight up giggles at that, dragging on the joint again. He notices Cliff eyeing his exposed collarbone, the room suddenly too hot to focus. He uncrosses his legs and sits a little more loosely, thighs slightly spread. Cliff notices but is suddenly distracted by Billy who returns with two cold beers in hand. His shirt looks a little more open now, showing off the gleaming muscles of his toned chest. He sits between them, leg brushing Steve's, forcing him to close his legs again. 

"Thanks..." He murmurs, taking the can of beer and frowning as Billy snatches the blunt from his hand. 

"Share Harrington." Billy grins, finishing off the joint before downing his beer like the keg-King he is. Steve rolls his eyes at the display and finishes his own beer in record time. 

"You got another one of those?" He teases as Billy stares at him through hooded eyes. 

"You challenging me, former keg-King?" Billy sneers but it's all in good fun. Steve raises a brow at that, loving this carefree, almost playful side of Billy. 

"Guess I am." 

Cliff howls off the side like a damn hyena. "Guys we got us a keg-King off! Bring me a pack, cos we don't got kegs!" 

Billy shakes his head at Cliff's antics, getting up to grab a pool cue. 

"How about this- how about we go one round, whoever loses has to drink the entire six pack. Warm." 

Steve's face twists uncomfortably. "Warm! Are you serious?" 

"Holy shit that's disgusting man." Danny chuckles as Cliff comes running back with a six pack of Schlitz. They're all warm. They all watch him with pity, patting him on the back. 

"Sorry kid, but Billy's the best shot in this game. Enjoy your warm brew." Kevin tells him, sitting next to Mickey. He takes over in helping her roll the joint. 

Steve scoffs and gets to his feet, fully aware of how tight his shorts are. It's practically inside of him, cupping him firmer than a glove now. He walks it off, taking the cue Billy offers him and chalking it properly. He can feel the heat from Billy's gaze as he leans over the table to rack the balls into order. He sets the cue ball in place and then looks pointedly at the blonde. 

"D'you wanna break or..?" He questions, some kind of innuendo laced into his tone. A few more hits of a blunt and he'd be waxing depressed and poetic. God he needed to keep his head straight tonight. He didn't want to end up making the wrong move and freaking Billy out or something. He really enjoyed the blonde's company in a way that he hadn't expected and to throw all of that away would just be a shame.

"Scared pretty boy?" Billy taunts, hip knocking his own, pushing him away. "Don't worry, I'll break for you." 

Steve swallows his retort and bites his lip instead, eyes tracing the powerful muscles rippling underneath Billy's bicep. Jesus Christ were all of his clothes this tight? Or did he just buy em like that to show off his impressive guns? His breath catches in his throat when Billy leans over slightly, lining up his cue with the cue ball. Then he turns his head and gives Steve the best wink he's ever seen in his life before drawing his arm back and then driving it forward expertly. The cue ball breaks the rest, scattering them all over the table. 

That's exactly how Steve's insides feel at the moment. 

Two stripes go in so Billy declares stripes and proceeds to decimate two more of them. Steve takes his place at the table when it's his turn and lines up his cue to a solid. He eyes Billy from under his lashes, biting his lip and grinning at the blonde whose stare intensifies. Steve makes a show of leaning over the table, ass ridiculously high up in the air as he tip-toes to aim for the corner pocket. He can tell Billy's distracted by Cliff suddenly sitting upright, eyes on Steve's pert butt. He can see the blonde gritting his teeth, jaw clenching hard. 

_He draws back, and then lets loose._

Good, he's one pocket in. Three more turns grant him four more solids in their pockets. 

"Well shit." Kevin comments from the sidelines, in shock at Steve's prowess. 

"Get em princess!" Cliff hoots, drunk but lively with a very high Mickey in his lap. Steve almost blushes at the dry look Billy sends his way. 

"Hargrove, that beer is so fucking warm." Danny fake-sobs, pounding Billy on the back. 

Billy rolls his eyes, ignoring them all and trying for a trick shot. It pockets one stripe but the other comes dangerously close to the 8 ball. He curses under his breath, stepping out of the way for Steve to take his turn. The brunette mocks him with an over-exaggerated sad face, moving to stand directly in front of Billy. He slowly, deliberately leans over the table, ass cheeks squeezing in those tight shorts. Billy curses behind him but no one else hears it, only Steve. 

He sticks his tongue out, one eye closed while the other focuses in on his last two solids. He eases one in the pocket and grins back at Billy, giving him a wink of his own. 

"Hope you've got some wings to eat with that warm beer." 

Billy huffs at him looking as if a bug had just threatened his life. "Yeah alright Harrington, just shoot already." 

Steve shrugs off the insult and happily aims his cue, lining it up with his solid. 

_He makes the pot._

Cheers and loud roars of "You fucked up Hargrove" erupt all over the lounge, about half of the place now invested in their little contest. Billy smirks despite himself and goes over to the wall, carefully resting against it with his cue. Steve gives him a cheese-eating grin and lines up for the final blow. 

And he misses it. 

"Fuck." He mutters as the cheers quiet down. 

"Come on Steve!" Mickey groans, but even she knows he's already lost. 

Billy doesn't stay down for long. He quickly sets up his pockets and then executes each hit with frightening precision. He gets the 8 ball in finally and wins the game. Steve hangs his head in defeat, propped up with his arms on the edge of the pool table. He feels a large hand pat his back, warm breath tickling his ear. 

"Drink it Harrington." 

He sighs, shrugging Billy off and cracking open the first can. 

"Congrats Hargrove, you won. Fair and square." 

The warm beer slides easily down his throat but settles unpleasantly in his stomach. He takes everyone's sympathetic expressions with a grain of salt, chugging down three cans in one go. The other three however, he's not so sure about. 

"C'mon pretty boy, don't be a bitch." Billy taunts, opening fourth can for him. Steve grudgingly takes it and downs every last drop. 

"Two more to go, you feelin' the shame yet?" 

"Shut up Billy." He groans, swaying a bit on his feet. Billy catches him though, hands firm on his shoulders as they steer him over to a seat. He's pretty sure it's the blunt that fucked up his head but hey, disgustingly warm beer can do that as well. He sort of slumps forward but then Billy's hand on his chin tilts his head back.

"Hey, princess- you alright?" 

"Go 'way Billy." He slurs, swiping at the hand on his face. He hears the blonde snicker and smiles drunkenly at the sound. 

_"He alright?"_ Cliff asks. Billy murmurs a response. 

"You're a sore loser." He hears himself say, chuckling at Billy's amused huff. 

"Alright Harrington, I'm gonna get you some ice and soda water. Sober you up." 

"I'm not drunk," Steve insists, "That beer just sucked." 

Billy pats his cheek, smug. "I know pretty boy." 

.......................

They hang around the lounge for an hour more before Billy decides to split. 

Cliff has to carry Mickey home and both Kevin and Danny have a house party to attend. Steve's already hit his limit and he's got that look of weariness all over his face. Billy has to take him home. 

"C'mon Harrington, let's get outta here." 

Steve follows with a pout, still sore about losing. He pours himself into the passenger's side and closes his eyes, exhausted. Billy huffs at him and takes the initiative to fix his seatbelt. He gets in the car and pulls off into the night, glancing over at the brunette every minute or so to make sure he's alive. 

"Hey, don't OD over there." 

"M'not gonna OD Jesus shuddup." Steve hisses, "Why're you being so loud?" 

Billy snickers to himself, patting Steve's thigh. "Don't worry princess, we're almost at the hotel." 

Suddenly Steve's wide awake. 

"No, I don't wanna go there." 

Billy frowns, "Well then where d'you wanna go?" 

"Anywhere but there. Please."

"Why don't you want to go back to your hotel? Your parents are probably waiting for you." 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. "Yeah, no they're not. They were invited to Mr Beauchamp's residence for the rest of the week." 

Billy makes a face though Steve doesn't see it. "Wait, and they left you at the hotel?" 

"Yep. Look, the suite is huge and freaking lonely and... I don't wanna be alone... right now..." He mutters, unaware at how pitiful he sounded. But he could honestly care less at this point. It would be _torture_ to leave the bar so buzzed and happy, only to be met with a dark hotel room that held no sense of warmth at all. He just couldn't take another night of it. 

"I'll- I'll sleep in your car or something, you-you don't have to take me to your place or- ...whatever... y'know." 

Billy bites down lightly on the knuckle of his index finger trying his best to not say the wrong thing here.

"You can't sleep in my car Harrington."

Steve turns to him and he nearly loses it at the sad puppy eyes. "Aw c'mon. You won't even know I'm here." 

He sighs in defeat. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" 

Steve snorts with a giddy grin. "Yeah I know." 

***

It's less than a fifteen-minute drive over to Billy's place in Santa Monica. 

He helps the swaying brunette up the front steps of the less than imposing two-storey house, heart in his goddamn throat because he'd never thought in a million years that _Steve Harrington_ would be spending the night with him, here in California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!


	3. Rain Dance Stevie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy and Steve share some awkward moments. And Steve bumps into a childhood friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you're all enjoying this. Always good to see your comments and get all the kudos lol ❤

Rain Dance Stevie 

Steve wakes up around eleven with a pounding in his head and his mouth drier than a desert. He swallows and winces at the sandpaper in his throat, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. A quick glance around the room tells him he's not in the hotel anymore. 

"Where the hell am I?" He murmurs to himself, hating the way his entire skull throbbed with every movement of his jaw. 

The room was dim but some sunlight from outside filtered in through the windows. Walls of pale grey surrounded him, white accents on the edges of the pristine ceiling. There was a chandelier hanging overhead, all fancy crystals and shiny pearl strings. A dark mahogany door stood ominously to his left, and to his right, clearly a walk-in closet. He sits up slowly, eyes taking in the neatly groomed carpeted floor, not a scuff-mark in sight. Next to him, was a dark bedside drawer, a pale green night lamp resting innocently on its surface. He frowns at the cup of water next to the lamp, and the card of pills just behind it. 

Then he notices his denim shorts and white shirt resting in crumpled puddles on the floor. 

_Shit... Billy._

All the events of the previous night suddenly comes back to him in a whirlwind of blurry images and he has to grit his teeth to stave off the impending wave of nausea that threatens to overflow. He recalls the loud, drunken cries of dancing people, endless but not mindless chatter and liberating laughter. Then he remembers an unhealthy amount of beer cans, warmed beer sliding down his throat and fucking losing to Billy at pool. 

"Fuck..." He curses under his breath, head in his hands, fingers gripping at his hairline. His head starts pounding again so he grabs up the pills and water, not bothering to read the back to make sure that they were aspirin or not. 

He carefully struggles to his feet, slipping on his shorts without zipping or buckling it and throwing his shirt on the wrong way around. He forgoes buttoning it up, too unfocused and uncoordinated to be proper at the moment. He quietly opens the door and walks through the hall, all the way down to the modest but homely kitchen. 

Billy's focused on making coffee on the marble countertop, back turned towards Steve. His golden curls are a mess, clumped about his head in knotted bunches. He's already got a cigarette between his lips by the smell that mixes with the coffee and the smoke rising from somewhere next to him. He's also changed into light green board shorts and a white tank. Hot sun is pouring through the window overlooking the sink. 

_Jesus, how long had he been out for?_

The blonde suddenly turns around and pauses at the sight of the disheveled, half-dressed brunette standing cutely near the threshold to the kitchen, big brown eyes darting everywhere in curiosity. 

"Hey, figured you'd be up by now. Feel alright?" 

And _Jesus Christ_ does his morning voice always sound so damn raspy? Steve feels himself become aroused, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. It's just his stupid morning phase, he thinks. 

"Um, yeah... took the aspirin. Thanks." He replies in a pathetic croak, vocal chords no doubt dried up. Billy grins at him and shakes his head, clearly amused at Steve's current state. 

"Made coffee." 

That sounds incredible so Steve nods enthusiastically. "Sugar and cream please." 

Billy chuckles at him with mischievous eyes, taking the cigarette from his lips to between his fingers. "Figured you were the sugar and cream type." 

Steve rolls his eyes at that, plopping down tiredly on the barstools at the marble island. He rubs at his eyes furiously, trying to clear the cotton from his head. Billy places the coffee cup in front of him and slaps him on the back. 

"Jesus you're a lightweight, Harrington." He murmurs, digging in his fridge for something. 

"Yeah? Well you try drinking a fuck ton of warm beer and see how you feel after." Steve grouches, taking a curious sip and consequently burning his tongue. 

Billy returns and joins him at the island, puffing away on his cigarette whilst considering Steve with sage blue eyes. "Wish I could offer you lunch but I haven't been to the store in a while." 

Steve frowns. "Lunch? Wait, what time is it?" 

"It's 12:45 in the afternoon." Billy grins, almost triumphantly as Steve gapes at him. 

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, holy shit." 

Steve drinks again when the coffee is much cooler, moaning at the taste. It was sweet and creamy and just fucking perfect that it almost made him want to cry. He ignores Billy's eyes on him and downs half of the cup before taking a break. 

"So, you live here by yourself? Or..." 

_Terrible way to start a conversation, but whatever. Sue him for being curious._

But Billy doesn't seem cold or closed off by the question. No, rather he looks thoughtful. 

"This is my Aunt's place. She left California to travel the world with her European husband. Told me I could keep the place because she didn't feel like coming back." 

Steve raises a brow, vaguely impressed. "Well that sounds like a fairytale." 

Billy smiles but then realizes that he's smiling and drops the uptilt of his lips. "Yeah, it does."

Steve hesitates before asking, "Does your Dad know?" 

This time, Billy does kind of close up a bit and he looks away. "He doesn't." 

Steve chews on his cheek nervously, smart enough to know that this particular thread was over in their conversation. He sips his coffee instead and then decides to change the topic. 

"It's a nice place. Exactly what I've always imagined houses in California would look like." 

Billy snorts. "I'm surprised you've never been here Harrington. What with your Dad's business trips and all that." 

It's Steve's turn to frown thoughtfully. "Um, yeah, no he's always got stuff to do in like, New York and Chicago, sometimes Washington because most of his investors are from those areas. But Mr Beauchamp had heard about his auditing services and expressed some interest. And he's like, a millionaire so he invited Dad and the family out to his vacation mansion I guess." 

Billy raises a brow. "Auditing services?" He sounds more impressed than curious. 

Steve nods. "Yeah, he'd built his company in isolation for years and then in '71 he joined with McGladrey."

"McGladrey?" Billy repeats, almost as if he's about to choke. "You're saying that your Dad is the _'Harrington'_ in McGladrey and Harrington?" 

Steve shrugs, looking down at his coffee. "Yeah, _that_ Harrington."

"Fucking hell, you must be swimming in Benjamins." 

Steve snorts at that. "Yeah, I guess. It's not all its cracked up to be though." 

"Hey I'm not saying it is, but _sheesh_ Harrington, you're filthy fucking rich." 

Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head and refusing to succumb to the smile tugging at his face. 

"You gonna be nicer to me now Hargrove?" 

Billy snorts, following that up with a less than classy cackle. "Hell no, the hell d'you take me for? You're still the same ol' pretty boy to me. Could care less about your money." 

Steve finally gives in and smiles, quietly finishing his coffee while Billy finishes his cigarette in similar silence. 

After a while he says, "Hey, we could grab lunch at the hotel. Y'know, if you still want to...?" 

Billy gives him an appraising look. "I don't think I can afford to buy you lunch at the Marina, princess." 

Steve grins at him and winks, "Shut up. I'll just put it on Daddy's tab." 

Billy ignores his cock stiffening at the way Steve sing-songs _'Daddy'_ in that bratty but oh-so-sweet tone. 

...........................

They park a short distance away from the hotel and walk the rest of the way. _Billy wasn't comfortable with some valet driving his car._ Steve manages to acquire a speedy reservation thanks to his father's name and association and they get a table directly overlooking the waterfront. Billy gets a few stern glares from men and some older women, and some pretty obvious leers from the younger girls. He clearly doesn't fit in with his breeze-blown hair and his surfer build. Steve had made him put on a white shirt to at least look a little decent for the prissy rich atmosphere. 

He hated all of it. 

"Hey, just ignore it. It's fine." Steve whispers to him from across the table, earning a disapproving glare from an old man to his far left. Billy glares back at the man until he looks away. 

"It's not fine. These people are vultures." The blonde mutters, pausing abruptly to notice how much prettier Steve looks in natural light. His dark brown eyes turn into melting pools of honey, framed by ridiculously long lashes and hooded by perfectly shaped brows. His pale skin practically glows, soft and smooth underneath that thin white shirt. It's unevenly buttoned and the collar is spread wide open, revealing a sharp clavicle. His freckled skin makes Billy hot for some goddamn reason so he quickly averts his eyes to the menu in front of him. 

"C'mon," Steve jokes, "You've faced off with an inter-dimensional monster before. You can deal with this." 

Billy rolls his eyes. "These people are scarier. I hate the rich." 

Steve pouts and it has no damn reason to be _that_ cute. "You hate me then." 

"Tell you what, choose something for us to eat and maybe I'll consider removing you from my hate list." Billy offers in a mocking business-like tone. 

"Why do I have to choose lunch? Don't know what you want?" 

Billy snorts. "No. It's cos I can't pronounce anything on this fucking menu." 

Steve's outburst of laughter is met by several disgruntled stares but Billy doesn't rain on his parade. He looks too beautiful, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and a brilliant smile on his pink lips. 

"God you're so stupid." He wheezes, wiping dramatically at his teary eyes. Billy smirks at him and moves over to the drinks section. He notices some of the beer options but hits a dead end at the wines. 

"The hell is a 'chateau vig-noble', Harrington?" 

Steve nearly chokes at his gross mispronounciation of the word but manages to keep it respectful. "Um, it's pronounced chateau _vignoble_ and it's actually a French cherry wine. It's my favorite." 

Billy rolls his eyes. "Of course it is. Where's the hard liquor in here?

Steve shrugs. "Dad says the red wines are usually pretty good." 

Billy narrows his eyes at that. "Y'know what, I'll just stick to regular old battery acid." 

Steve makes a disgusted face at that, then chirps teasingly, "You mean, warm beer?" 

....................

Steve ends up ordering lemon chicken with pasta and roasted vegetables- Italian style. 

Billy still looked revolted at the idea of calamari and he was already pissed at the waiter placing his beer in a fancy crystal glass _with a straw._ It was hilarious to see the usually untethered, wily bad-boy be so uncomfortable and disgusted by the finer things in life. Steve had secretly always felt this way whenever he sat down for dinners with his parents and their work partners, so it was refreshing to see someone else in his shoes. Only, he wasn't forcing Billy to sit there and act all proper like his father did to him. 

"Do you like it?" Steve asks, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. 

Billy shoots him an withering look but then shrugs. "It's alright. There's a weird taste in here that isn't _so_ bad..." 

"Olive oil?"

" _That's_ what it is?" Billy exclaims, making a face. 

"You don't like it?" 

"I don't love it... but it's alright." 

Steve shakes his head with a fond grin, sipping on his cherry wine. It stains his lips a deep shade of red and Billy finds it hard to look away. The brunette barely notices him staring though, busy talking about different types of pastas and Italian dishes. There's this thing that Steve just does without prompt, when he's lost in whatever the hell he's talking about, where his eyes just brighten up and he gets all animated and excited. It's adorable and it really shouldn't be, _because this is Steve fucking Harrington for Christ's sake!_ This was the same Bambi-faced motherfucker that he beat up like a year ago at the Byers house. His best guess was that they'd all grown up a little after the Mind Flayer had _body-snatched_ half of Hawkins and melted them down to nothing but fleshy blobs of mushy organs and singed bones. 

_He'd probably grown the most out of all of them..._

But what did that have to do with his sudden blinding affections for Steve Harrington? 

"Steven?" 

Suddenly they're interrupted by a tall man dressed in a luxurious white polo sweater and white tennis shorts. He's quite broad up top, with muscular, tanned legs and even stronger looking arms. He's got sandy blonde hair and blue-green eyes, and quite possibly the most chiseled jaw anyone's ever seen. It's like he'd walked off of an action movie set. Billy's eyes follow the way the man practically lifts Steve out of his chair to wrap him in a tight embrace. 

"Randy. Hey, I haven't seen you in a long time." Steve says with that award-winning smile of his. Randy still hasn't taken his hands from around Steve's waist. 

"Same here, kid. Your Dad told my Dad that you had a lot of studying to do." 

Steve's smile deflates a bit. "Oh yeah," he chuckles dismissively, "Yeah I was busy with school and then work and all that. You on vacation?" 

Randy scoffs and finally releases Steve's waist, running a hand through that shaggy, rugged hair. Billy hates him and his stupid hair. 

"Not really. My Dad's having a meeting with your Dad and Mr Beauchamp." 

"Oh, same." 

Randy then turns to Billy, plastic smile still plastered onto his dumb statuesque face. "And who's this?" 

Steve apologetically waves a hand as if to introduce Billy. "This is uh, my friend Billy, Billy, this is Randy. He's the son of one of my Dad's co-workers." 

"Hello." 

Billy grudgingly takes the offered hand and shakes it, being sure to put a little power behind the squeeze. Randy doesn't lose his sleazy grin and just keeps smiling at him as if he's won something. But then their handshake is over and Randy has his attention on Steve again, giving the brunette an appraising look. 

"Damn kid, you've gotten taller. I think the last time I saw you, you were reaching my chest. Still, the hair was glorious as it always is. It's gotten much longer than before. Looks pretty." 

Billy hates the way Steve blushes under the man's description of his looks. He white-knuckles the fabric of his board shorts but keeps his mouth shut. _This doesn't concern you Hargrove_ , he warns himself. 

"Well, y'know," Steve replied shyly, not really sure what to say to that. "How's uh, Roxanne? Is she here with you?" 

Randy rolls his eyes and blows a raspberry, tousling the blonde bangs hanging off his forehead. "She's with her family in Rome. Her parents invited me but I wanted to come to Cali instead. Heard the babes here are _outta this world_ , am I right?" He snickers in an annoying voice that makes Billy's blood crawl. He doesn't agree or offer support to Randy's slutty, frat-boy jive and by the looks of it, neither does Steve who just chuckles along uncomfortably. 

"Well, it was nice seeing you Randy-" 

"Hey, my Dad's going to this fancy dinner Mr Beauchamp is hosting at the end of the negotiations meetings. Why don't you come? Bring your friend, it's a plus-one event." 

Steve frowns at that but nods anyway, "Sure, I'll have to run it by my Dad first but yeah, I'll think about it." 

Randy winks at him and clicks his tongue in the most clichéd way ever that makes Billy want to puke. "Alright, well, it was nice meeting you Billy, and Steven, I will see you around." 

When he leaves, Steve drops back into his chair with a mighty sigh, pouting as if his life was hanging in the balance. Billy observes him quietly for a bit before deciding to just talk to fill the awkward silence. 

"So, Randy's weird." 

_Great starter Hargrove._

Steve forces himself to grin but it comes out like a perfectly formed grimace. "Yeah, Randy's... a bit strange. But we practically grew up together. Y'know, always being dragged along to our Dads' meetings and conferences."

Billy screws up his nose. "Grew up together? He looks a little older than you." 

"We're five years apart. I met him when I was twelve, he was seventeen. It didn't matter, y'know... at least I had someone to talk to." 

He cringes mentally at how pathetic that sounds, fixing his frown and giving Billy his best smile. "Anyway, would you come?" 

"Would I what now?" Billy asks in surprise as if he'd just woken up from a spaced out episode. 

Steve chuckles, pursing his lips. "If Dad lets me go to the dinner, would you come with me?" 

"Uh, hell no."

"Well, why not?" Steve questions with the puppy eyes. Billy wants to kick him. 

"Because Harrington, I'm one of the degenerates of California. A rebel if you will, surfer-dude with a serious tan job and piercing blue eyes. I'm not going to some fancy party hosted by the capitalist elites." 

Steve rolls his eyes before sipping on his cherry wine. "God you're a cynic." 

Billy scoffs. "You really think they'd let me in their luxury mansion lookin like this?" 

Steve shrugs. "Well you won't be wearing _that._ I can tell Daddy to call up the tailor, make you a suit." 

Billy raises an impressed brow. "Just like that huh? You pretty boys and your Daddy's money." He chuckles just under his breath, eyes somehow heated as they stare across the table at Steve like he's gullible prey. Billy leans over slightly, noting the _exact_ moment Steve's interest becomes peaked, big brown eyes gazing at him intently. He bites the corner of his mouth, like he's hanging onto every last word that leaves Billy's lips. 

"Okay Harrington, I'll go to your stupid fancy dinner. If, you get permission from your Daddy anyway. But I have one condition." 

Steve narrows his eyes at him. "Name it." 

Billy grins. "You'll have to go with me to this thing tomorrow." 

Steve feels a stupid smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah? And what's that?" 

"Something me and the boys do, for fun. It's pretty lame but they begged me to bring you." 

Steve's eyes grow bigger. "You don't do anything lame Hargrove. What is it?" 

Billy sloshes down the rest of his beer, lighting a cigarette immediately after. "Lets just say you'd have to see it for yourself. I'll pick you up tomorrow. I want you bright eyed and bushy tailed by seven am, sharp." 

........................

The phone rings three times before someone picks up. 

_"Hello?"_

"Hey Max." 

A shocked pause. Then, _"Billy! You asshole, you told me you'd call me back a month ago."_

He chuckles, not sure if to be amused or disturbed by the fact that every day, Max sounds more and more like him. A dark though crosses his mind and he nearly throws up. 

"Neil actin' up again?" 

Max sighs, her breath sounding crackled and muffled over the line. _"Nah, he's just drunk these days."_

He breathes a heavy sigh of relief, cigarette smoke clinging to his lips. He runs a hand through shaggy curls, not sure why his nerves are suddenly haywire. He clicks his tongue and slams his eyes shut, just listening to the radio silence on the other end. _God, he didn't deserve Maxine._ She had the patient of a saint, putting up with his bullshit for so long. He honestly couldn't wait for her to leave Hawkins and come back to Cali for college. 

_"Billy what's wrong?"_ She asks finally, a sort of seriousness in her tone that tells him that she knows something's up. 

He bites his lip and then cracks his neck, pulling the receiver away from his ear several times before finally manning up. 

"Remember that thing we talked about last month?" 

She's silent for a moment, barely breathing. _"Y- yeah. What's wrong?"_

Billy shakes his head and then thinks better of denying shit. It's not like she can see him deny it anyway. "Maybe I changed my mind..." 

He can hear the surprise in her voice when she asks, _"What? Um, what changed your mind?"_

He doesn't know how to answer that, and he knows that any explanation he can give would just confuse both of them more. Now feeling as if he'd walked into his own trap, he feels his walls coming up, annoyance taking over. 

"I didn't say I actually did change my mind, Maxine. Just that I've got doubts." 

He can feel her roll her eyes at him. _"Geez, chill would you? Then what are you trying to say? What's the reason for the doubt?"_

He curses under his breath, pissed off and miserable because none of this was Max's fault. And here he was, getting mad and making snide, rude remarks at her when all she was trying to do was help. He sighs, defeated. 

"I don't know Max. Maybe I just need to think on it. Hey, I'll call you in a few days alright? And if you need me, just call Cliff's. His folks always pick up." 

He hangs up swiftly after that and goes to bed, feeling sick and dejected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed and hey, check me out on Tumblr for more HARRINGROVE content. Much love, Sam.


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